


He lost count.

by Concupiscence (MurderRose)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Belts, M/M, Werewolves, Whipping, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderRose/pseuds/Concupiscence
Summary: What was a belt, really?A mark of the repression of his people?A strip of leather made to hold clothes up?A weapon?Love?
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26
Collections: Challenge 3: Supernatural





	He lost count.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the SnapShots Mods! (Round 3: Supernatural!)
> 
> Enjoy!!
> 
> (Author info after reveals!)

He shouldn’t like it. 

He shouldn’t enjoy it. 

He should hate it.

Should hate the way the belt felt on his skin, the looks he got from packmates and friends.

Should hate the way Jeonghan called him a ‘Good Puppy’ or a ‘Furry Waste of Space’.

Should hate the way he spelled the buckle shut when he put the belt on him, or how he spelled the belt rigid when he wanted to hurt him.

  
  
  


Seungcheol should have hated a lot of things, but he didn’t. 

He loved how the belt felt like security when it was around his neck, felt like home when it was encircling his wrists, felt like heaven when it came crashing down on his back.

Loved how Jeonghan would always kiss him and say, “I love you.” No matter what he’d done, said or how he’d acted. 

Loved Jeonghan.

  
  
  


So, when Seungcheol found himself spread eagled and secured to the four posts of the bed with clever knotwork, he just hummed and relaxed into it, sniffing the air for Jeonghan’s scent of sulphur and tea. He found it in seconds, strong and somewhere to his right. He closed his eyes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A belt clinked.

Seungcheol shivered.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Fabric rustled.

Seungcheol stretched in his bounds.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A bottle unscrewed and the smell of leather oil filled the room.

Seungcheol sneezed.

“Bless you,” Jeonghan’s response was automatic and the last trickle of fear that had been embedded in Seungcheol’s spine melted away. “You’re being so good, be patient a little longer, pup.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jeonghan kneeled onto the bed and kissed Seungcheol’s ears. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you smell-”

“I know, Mingyu set off an explosion in labs earlier.”

“-I was gonna say good.”

“Oh, thank you, puppy. Did you have a good day? You were conked out when I got home.”

“Yeah, fine, Eomma wanted to run me through training exercises again, so I’ve been in furs since seven. It’s nice to be in skin.”

Jeonghan kissed his dens, “And what a pretty skin it is. Ready?”

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan twisted so his face was underneath his, Seungcheol presumed magic was involved somehow, and licked into his mouth like he was trying to scent him from the inside.

He usually was.

  
  
  
  


When he eventually drew back, whispering “Ready?” against Seungcheol’s lips. Seungcheol nodded.

Jeonghan vanished.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The belt came down gently across his back. Once, twice, three times, four, five, 

Seungcheol lost count.

  
  
  
  
  


Jeonghan brought it down harder across the tops of his thighs, once, twice, three times, four, five,

Seungcheol lost count.

  
  
  
  
  


He sped up his pace, bringing it across thighs, shoulders, five gorgeous strikes across his back, each more intense than the next, and then another set across his thighs. Once, twice, three times, four, five,

Seungcheol lost count.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


And then there was nothing. Just the sound of Seungcheol’s pants, the smell of sweat and wolf and leather. The crisp smell of midnight and nothing else.

Seungcheol bit back a whine, feeling his wolf rise at the absence of his partner, hands and feet tensing and relaxing over and over again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


And then the belt was back. It whooshed through the air to crack down across his previously neglected buttocks.

Once.

  
  
  


Twice.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Three times.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Four

Five

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Seungcheol lost count, whimpering and whining and twitching away from the next blows, tears seeping into the pillows, drool dripping out of his mouth, teeth halfway morphed into fangs, keening, crying, whining-

The belt clunked onto the floor and the ropes loosened slowly, letting the blood ooze back into his extremities before vanishing completely. The gentle lavender of Jeonghan’s magic lowered him to the bed and whispered over him in a gentle cloud before it too disappeared.

It was quickly replaced by Jeonghan, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before massaging a balm into his wrists and ankles. He pressed his fingers into the welts on his back, making Seungcheol hiss and sob, before rinsing them carefully with a warm cloth and rubbing a cream onto them. 

He wiped Seungcheol’s face and spelled his back numb.

  
  
  


“Talk to me.”

Seungcheol swallowed a few times, sipping the water that he held carefully to his lips, withdrawing his fangs, “A lot, maybe the last bit was too much, too, I couldn’t smell you, feel you,” Seungcheol pressed his face against Jeonghan’s shoulder, “I didn’t like that, it felt medieval.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I won’t do it again, okay?”

Seungcheol nodded against Jeonghan’s, suddenly bare, shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, please?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He tapped his finger against Seungcheol’s nose and they were both under the covers, skin on skin.

Seungcheol moved slowly until he was where he wanted to be, nose in the hollow of Jeonghan’s throat, arms wrapped around him tightly.

“Other than that?”

“Loved it. Really liked waking up bound that was fun, we should do that again. And that you didn’t talk for ages was interesting, made me smell and listen and take everything in. And then I loved your theatrics, nine out of ten.”

“Only a nine?” Seungcheol could hear Jeonghan’s pout. He pressed a mildly apologetic kiss to his skin, licking slightly to get his scent in his mouth again.

“You forgot when I sneezed, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, it was automatic.”

“Nine out of ten.”

“Okay fine. Next time the theatrics will be full marks.”

“Arrive in a poof of belts.”

Jeonghan was suspiciously silent and Seungcheol pushed himself up to stare at him.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually considering that.”

Jeonghan averted his eyes and Seungcheol flopped back down with a sigh.

“You are such a witch sometimes, you know that?”

“Well, I am a witch.”

“Prissy, predictable, perfectionist.”

“Hush you furry carpet. You don’t have paws to walk on here.”

Seungcheol kissed his throat again, satisfied when he got a mouthful of scent that time. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jeonghan yawned, “Have you eaten?”

“No, but sleep now.” Seungcheol patted Jeonghan’s hip and Jeonghan kissed his hair.

“Okay, sleep well.”


End file.
